I can’t believe that almost two months have flown by. Ever since this invasion known as Oliver.

Life hasn’t been the same and has only gotten better. It is so interesting to watch Oliver develop and grow into this cheerful little boy that he is today. Still does explosive poops though. *groan*

One can never be prepared for motherhood and I wasn’t sure if I was up for it. I mean, me? A mother? Breastfeeding, changing nappies and baths? And according to my friends, his godparents, who know me as the “baby-seller” during our tertiary days. haha. Sorry, this particular baby is not for sale.

So far, we have been establishing routines after routines. We had a decent one, one where he would fall asleep on his own after a feed, and would sleep for hours. That was before he was admitted into the hospital for a high fever. Talk about not being able to be prepared. This was it.

The heartache at an IV drip inserted in his vein, watching him being unwell, and not his usual self. I told Donald that I would not be so ready to face it if he were to get sick again. Very emotionally draining. Yikes. And I’m not up for putting up another 6 nights at the hospital again. But I guess babies have a two-second memory for now. Ollie would perk me up with his smile after a nap, despite crying his lungs out a couple of hours earlier. I am glad that he wouldn’t remember it. He might hate me for it. Heh.

For now, I’m just glad to have my karate-chopping monster back. Oh, with a new skill, fly-swatting. Some new thing he acquired, rubbing his face vigourously before he finally falls asleep. With his mittens, he does look like he is fly-swatting.